


We are the Kids

by trouble_hunting



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: A tiny bit of Freewood fluff, Anxiety, Blood, But it comes super close to it, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Gore, Ill put it in my chapter notes before it happens, Insomnia, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentions of Rape, No one is actually raped, Origin Story, Other, Panic Attack, Protective Ryan, Torture, Violence, gavin free - Freeform, ryan haywood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trouble_hunting/pseuds/trouble_hunting
Summary: Ryan didn't really know how he ended up in this mess. Just knew he did and that he really hated being a hostage. The heist had gone off without a hitch until it came to actually getting away with heir treasures. Ryan had left the Geoff and Jack to escape with the money, leading majority of the police after him on his motorbike. He never expected a rival crew to be lying in wait for when he’d lost the police and was practically alone on Mount Chiliad. He’d been heading to a safe house when they jumped him.--This is a Fake AH Crew Gavin origin story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write a fic like this for a while but never really felt confident in my writing skills.
> 
> I really wanted to write an out of the box origin story for Gavin and Im fucking Freewood trash so of course had to throw major Ryan into the mix, but hopefully you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Ryan didn't really know how he ended up in this mess. Just knew he did and that he really hated being a hostage. The heist had gone off without a hitch until it came to actually getting away with heir treasures. Ryan had left the Geoff and Jack to escape with the money, leading majority of the police after him on his motorbike. He never expected a rival crew to be lying in wait for when he’d lost the police and was practically alone on Mount Chiliad. He’d been heading to a safe house when they jumped him.

He remembered an explosion in the middle of the dirt road, being thrown off his bike and landing on his side, hitting his head hard. Then he remembered being dragged up and thrown into a Van. Everything after that was a blur of black and muffled voices. He must have passed out at some point because when he came to, he was being hauled down a trashy hallway into a dark makeshift cell. It took him a moment to really process his surroundings.

His mask was still on, so that was a good sign. His side hurt but didn't feel like anything was broken, just badly bruised. His jeans were slightly torn up from the blast but they’d seen better days anyways. The pounding in his head wouldn't stop though, making Ryan think he might have a concussion. When he begun to sit up, a wave of nausea hit him and he had to really restrain himself not to vomit. Yup. Concussion.

He slowly propped himself up against the wall of the room. The floor was cement and along with the four plain grey walls. There was a small window high up near the ceiling, barely emitting any light. No light bulbs hung from the ceiling. The only light source: the hallway light flooding underneath the steel door. The only furnishing the room had was a metal sink bolted into the wall and a grimy looking mattress. Ryan sighed and went to tug off his mask when the door was thrown open along. A lanky looking figure was thrown into the room before the door was slammed shut again, the loud noise not helping Ryan’s headache.

The skinny human writhed on the ground for a moment before slowly propping himself up onto all fours. His shirt was ripped to shreds, his shoes and socks long gone and replaced with old bloodied bandages, his fingers lacked nails and his arms were covered in circular burns. Cigarettes.

The lad gave Ryan a quick glance before crawling to the rotting mattress and seating himself on the edge, taking deep sharp breathes with every movement. Ryan tried not to look at the mess of a human. It wasn't the wounds that made his stomach churn, but how young the lad looked. He couldn't have been older than his early 20s. It really made Ryan remember how young he’d ended up in the business. Los Santos did that to people, kids especially.

Ryan shifted into a more comfortable seated position, grunting when pain flared in his ribs.

“You okay?”

The tiny croaky voice made Ryan instantly look up. The lad sat staring at the Vagabond, his tired eyes making contact with his own.

“D’your…did you hurt your side?” The lad tried again. Although his voice was small and raspy, the British accent was clear as day. He huffed and pulled himself to his feet, wincing with every paint step. Ryan tensed when the lad fell to his knees by his side. The lad seemed cautious of the skull masked Vagabond, his hands hovering over his own thighs, as if waiting for permission to touch Ryan. Ryan couldn't help but be somewhat thankful for the caution, as he didn't really appreciate when strangers touched him. He kept his guard up, not matter how miserable and pitiful the lad looked. He just couldn't take his eyes off of him.

“If, you don't mind, I could check f’you?” His voice still tiny and sad. “Make sure n’thing’s broken…”

Ryan eyed him for another moment. He didn't reply to the lad but with absolute caution, he slowly shrugged off his jacket and tugged up his t-shirt. The lad’s hands were shaky and cold but also gentle, making sure not to hurt Ryan too much. The bruising was already coming up a horrible deep purple color, almost black.

“S’not broken…” The lad sighed in, what seemed like, relief. He slowly tugged Ryan’s shirt back down. Ryan kept a hand on his side, almost protectively as the boy pulled his jacket over his shoulder. They sat in silence. The lad’s heavy breaths filling the silence, Ryan’s own breath trapped behind his mask.

After what seemed like hours of sitting in silence together, a large bang and heavy footsteps from behind the door had the Lad practically jumping. He held his breath a moment, waiting for the noises to move away before daring to breath again. Ryan stared at him. He was interesting to say the least, pitiful and sad, but still interesting.

“Get some sleep,” The lad whispered, shuffling to the end of the mattress and sitting against the wall. “You can have the mattress if you want…’m not getting any bloody sleep tonight so you may as well try.”

Ryan’s brow furrowed. He couldn't help feel bad for him. He’d been a victim of torture before and it left you more scared inside than out. He heaved himself to his feet, gritting his teeth in a hiss of pain. He shuffled to the mattress, plopping himself down next to the British lad, who glanced at Ryan from where he rested his head in his arms. Ryan stared down at him before slowly pushing him against his side, he head resting against his shoulder. The lad flinched at the sudden contact, remaining tense a moment before easing into Ryan’s good side. It wasn't like Ryan was going to get any sleep, not with the pounding ache in his head and all his senses seemingly over alert. If the feared Vagabond could help a miserable and hurt kid get some sleep, then that is all he could possibly hope for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went a bit overboard with this chapter, hence why it is so long but stuff happens that you'll need to know.

A loud noise from outfit the room had Ryan snapping his eyes open in a moment. He’d relaxed into a sort of restless nap, the lad leaning into his side. He hadn’t slept a wink all night and Ryan knew it. He had subconsciously kept an eye on his heavy breaths all night, the lad squirming and fidgeting every so often. After the loud noise, the lad had propped himself upright and off Ryan.

As Ryan went to break the silence between them, the door was thrown open and armed gang membered strolling in. Ryan felt Gavin tense in fear beside him. One of the men stepped forward, the gent large and round (Ryan decided to mentally name him Tubby).

“Get the fuck up, Vagabond,” Tubby grunted at him. Ryan sneered. If there was one thing he really fucking hated, it was someone telling him what to do. Tubby growled kicked one of Ryan’s legs hard. Ryan was thrown off balance a bit from where he sat. He leaned back onto the wall stared at Tubby with a glare that could cut through steel.

“I said GET THE FUCK UP,” Tubby screamed at Ryan. His headache had eased over the night but with the fat gang member screaming at him, he suspected it would be back soon.

“J-ust do what they say,” The lad pleaded in his tiny voice, tugging on Ryan’s sleeve with trembling hands. “It’ll be easier. They wont hurt you if you obey them.” 

The lad couldn't take his eyes off the guards, his tired eyelids now wide with fear, his hands and shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

“Please…” He breathed.

Ryan grunted and obeyed. He was really starting to hate how scared this kid was, because it was hitting soft spots he thought had toughened up years ago. He really couldn't help but feel an urge to protect the kid. He managed to pull himself to his feet, his hand still caressing his damaged side.

One of the guards grabbed his arm, roughly pushing him out the door. Out of the four guards that had entered, only three followed him out. He felt his stomach drop when the door slammed shut behind them, leaving the remaining guard and Gavin behind in the cell.

~~~

Ryan was escorted down the shitty hall he’d originally been dragged down upon his arrival. The building seemed like some kind of abandoned school or factory. The windows were either covered in graffiti or newspaper, blocking out majority of the sunlight coming through. It was day outside now. He’d had to have been gone for a good number of hours, enough for Geoff or Jack to notice his disappearance. Especially since he hadn’t checked in at their agreed time. 

Ryan stumbled over a glass bottle, almost tripping the guard behind him and earning him a painful jab in the side with the butt of the guy’s gun. Ryan hissed in pain; the pain in his ribs returning greater than ever.

After what seemed like an eternity of walking, stumbling and getting jabbed, Ryan was pushed into a room similar to his cell, but larger and with more bloodstains. ‘Torture room? Perfect’ Ryan thought. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he was thrust into a metal chair, the legs bolted to the floor. The guards secured his arms behind the chair with metal cuffs. He was then left alone in the dreary room. Water dripped from the roof, where it was coming from, Ryan had no clue since it hadn’t rained in days. The bloodstains on the floor were dried and looked years old, covered with dirt and debris from the small hole in the ceiling. The air was stale and musty and the old light source was a yellow bulb hanging far too low for safety.

The door burst open and an all too familiar face wandered in. Edgar. The smug prick wandered in with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Ryan already knew what he was going to say: ‘Well well, guess I caught myself a Vagabond!’

“Well well, guess I caught myself a vagabond!” Edgar boasted. Knew it.

“Guess you have, what the fuck do you want?” Ryan spat. His ribs were really starting to ache and all he wanted to do was punch Edgar in his smug nose, get himself and the British kid out of here and sleep for the next million years, despite his insomnia.

“You? I don't want anything from you actually. I AM going to hurt you,” Edgar forewarned. “But what I want is what your boss has.”

Edgar smirked and pulled out Ryan’s cell phone. They must have swiped it when they jumped him on the road. Edgar dialed in a contact before placing it on speaker in his palm.

“RYAN YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Geoff shrieked as the call connected. “THE FUCK HAPPENED!! WE HAD A PLAN!!”

“Yeah, sorry about that Ramsey. I took some liberties and changed your plan for you,” Edgar snickered. The other end was silent for a moment. Then a muffled conversation ensued between Geoff and Jack.

“…Who’s this?” Geoff asked, completely confused as to who it actually was.

“…Edgar…”

“Edgar who? I don't owe you money do I?”

At this point Edgar’s grin was gone and was replaced with a sour frown. Ryan had to hold himself back from laughing out loud. He always knew Geoff was a bit scatterbrained when it came to names and faces, but as they had butt heads with the Taurus crew a couple of times, he had always assumed he knew who Edgar was. The line went quite again for a moment.

“OHHHHHHHHH Edgar!” Geoff cheered for his sudden recollection. “Fuckin’ Taurus crew yeah?”

“…Yeah…” Edgar was drained from the conversation.

“The fuck do you want? Where’s Vagabond?” Geoff’s voice turned serious.

“Ryan’s here with me and he’s going to stay here until you give me the money you stole on your last heist. I know it was easily a couple million,” Edgar chuckled, his planned conversation back on track. “You can surely spare that much to get your crew member back.”

Geoff ‘tsked’ on the other end. Ryan mentally could see his brow furrowing.

“How about I put him on, to help convince you?” Edgar snickered, setting the phone down on the arm of Ryan’s chair. He stepped back and went to one of the only furnishings in the room; a small wooden table on the far end of the room. He reemerged with a hammer and a rather sharp looking chisel. Ryan could already feel himself sweat. He didn't let it show when Edgar ripped his mask off his face. He glared up at the man with his icy blue eyes.

“You’re a fucking dead man,” Ryan hissed, at Edgar who simply shrugged and crouched down at Ryan’s feet. Ryan’s heart was pounding in his chest. His palms sweating and he couldn't help but fidget, knowing the pain he was about to be in.

Not even biting his lip could have chocked back the scream he felt rip through his throat. Edgar hammered down the chisel as hard as humanly possible, through the heavy leather of his boots and into his flesh. The burning pain was immense. For a moment after, his vision went completely white. Geoff’s screams over the phone sounded like they were underwater. His blood pumped in his ears. Edgar’s horrible evil laugh was enough to break him out of his trance. Bringing him back to the pain in his foot, the chisel still imbedded. 

“You have 24hours from now to bring me the money and you just MIGHT get your Vagabond back, in better or worse condition than this,” Edgar chortled, swinging the hammer around. “Bye bye for now, Ramsey. I’ll check in with you in about 12 hours!” 

Ending the call, Edgar wandered over the door and waved in a few men. Ryan looked over his shoulder, his breaths heavy and deep, at the disgusting grins the gang members had glued on their faces. A shiver ran down his spine. ‘You’ve been tortured before…you can take this. Don't be a pussy,’ He reassured himself. 

“Lets hope your boss comes through for you, sooner rather than later Vagabond” Edgar laughed, slamming the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im gonna post these chapters as I go, so sorry for any delays! Woop! Maybe I should make one of these chapters from Gavins POV?


	3. Chapter 3

Hours had passed when Ryan was thrown back into his cell. His body was sore and weak from the beating from Edgar’s crew. His foot ached and had swelled in his boot, making it almost impossible to take off. The chisel was still stuck in there, Ryan fearing that if he removed it, it might do more damage than good.

Ryan lay for a moment before pulling himself up. He felt sick and sore but he’d had worse. Well, not a chisel in the foot but the pain was nothing compared to “other” methods of torture he’d faced. A small groan had Ryan up and alert in a moment. Suddenly he remembered the kid, the small pitiful child he’d unwittingly left with the gang member.

His small form was laid in one of the corners of the room. Ryan limped over to him. The lad was on his side, but it was enough to see the new cigarette burns on his arms and shoulders, and the new cuts and bruises littering his body. Ryan was fuming. Not just at whoever did this but at himself for leaving someone as obviously helpless as the brit by himself without any defense. The Vagabond was a criminal and a murderer, sure. But that didn't mean he was completely heartless. It didn't mean he didn't help the lady down the hall from his apartment with her groceries every once in a while. It didn't mean he shut out the one eyed stray cat that came knocking on his window every night. It didn't mean he couldn't choose to protect a scrawny, vulnerable lad such as this from the horrible and nightmarish underworld.

Kneeling, Ryan rolled the lad over and into his arms. The boy was unconscious, from the pain or from sleep depravity, Ryan only hoped it was the latter. He pulled the torn shirt around his small figure as best he could before picking him up and laying him down on the foul mattress. ‘I seriously hope this doesn't cause an infection,’ Ryan sighed, removing his jacket and placing it over the lad. He remained next to him for a while, dosing on and off. 

~~~

It had to have been midday by the time the lad woke up. Ryan had had the pleasure of being sneered at by the guard when he came to give them food and bottled water. The food being gas station sandwiches, which Ryan was secretly grateful for. The past few times he’d be captured, he’s either been starved or given revolting moldy food scraps. This was a huge step up from that.

The lad stirred and slowly sat up, wincing at the pull on his wounds. Ryan, being half way through a sandwich, almost dropped it in surprise. He rushed to the other’s aid with a bottle of water in hand.

“Hey kid,” He whispered, his throat coarse from disuse. The lad held a hand to his head and gripped Ryan’s arm. Dizzy? He handed him the bottle of water, allowing him to drink slowly.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, almost slapping himself because ‘of course he wasn't okay, look at him.’ 

“Y-yeah…” The lad managed. He shuffled to sit against the wall aligned with the mattress. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaving Ryan in somewhat awkward silence. Ryan spoke up.

“’m sorry.”

“Wot?”

The lad looked at Ryan, utterly confused. Ryan sat, his bad foot outstretched, his hands twiddling in his lap. He shifted awkwardly for a moment, not daring to look the kid in the eye.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone,” Ryan repeated. The kid looked at him for a moment before relaxing back into his previous posture.

“It’s okay,” He breathed. “S’not your fault.”

“I shouldn't have left you alone with those fucks,” Ryan snapped, mostly to himself. The tone made the kid flinch. “…Sorry.”

“I-I’m sorry…for being so jumpy,” He mumbled.

“How the hell did you even end up here? You look like you’re still in high school,” Ryan couldn't help but ask. He didn't want to get too close, dive in too deep but something was nagging him in the back of his mind. He just had to know how a kid so scrawny and fragile ended up in a fuckfest such as the Los Santos underground.

“Guess I just ended up with the wrong kind of people,” The lad huffed a sad sort of laugh. He grimaced, readjusting his seating position to tell his tale.

“I’m very good at getting information. Like really bloody good. Hacking and the like. That's what people employed me for,” He said. “First it was just small things for couples wanting to spy on one another. Then it was slipping companies information on their rivals. Couple of years ago it escalated to working for crews. Anything from fake IDs, to erasing CCTV footage to hacking into bank vaults. Was a cushy deal actually.”

Ryan knew what it was like. Being a hired gun. He’d been a freelance mercenary before Geoff had asked him to be part of his crew. Freelance had always worked well for Ryan. He did the job, he got paid and that was that. No strings attached. Geoff’s crew was different though. He was a king pin just starting out with his friend Jack. They both wanted wealth but more importantly they wanted respect. That was something Ryan could get on bored with. The Vagabond was a mask he wore. But underneath it, he just wanted a little respect to go with his peace and quiet.

“That doesn't explain how you ended up here…” Ryan furrowed his brow. “Hackers don't do field work. “

“They don't. I don't. I mean, I used to so I know how to handle a gun but I don't like doing fieldwork if I don't have to,” The lad seemed to really be anxious telling this to Ryan. He was tangling his fingers between one another, his shoulders were trembling and his breathing had picked up.

“I-I didn't want to go do any field work but they asked me to come with them! They asked me to do it this one time, to trust them!” He gasped. His breathing was too fast now. Ryan crawled forward, putting his hand on the lad’s. Panic attack.

“Hey, Calm down, Kid,” Ryan said in the calmest voice he could manage. He’d experienced panic attacks before, so had Geoff, and so had Jack. The trick was to calm their breathing and soothe them.

“You don't have to tell me, just look at me and breath with me okay,” Ryan said in a hushed tone. He took deep breaths, allowing the kid to follow along.

“I-I didnt--” He gasped out. “A-ask for this! They left me!”

“I know, I know,” Ryan said gently. He rubbed the lad’s knuckles with his thumb. “I know you didn't ask for this and I’ll get you out, I promise.”

The lad nodded, following Ryan’s breathing and his trembling beginning to calm.

“What’s your name kid?”

“G-Gavin.”

“Nice to meet you Gavin. My name is Ryan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I torture, then I add some fluff....then I torture again and we all hope for a nice ending. It's a vicious cycle XD
> 
> Thinking of making this a bit of a series, with Michael and Ray's origin stories as well (maybe a bit on the gents as well)


	4. Chapter 4

After Gavin’s panic attack, Ryan had learned that his former crew had abandoned him on a job, handing him over to an enemy crew who had it out for Gavin; that crew being Edgar’s gang, Taurus. Gavin had had a hand in tracking down and helping destroy a few of his safe houses and weapons depots. Crippling his supplies while also enraging the bull.

Ryan had shifted to sit next to Gavin, listening to his story and then his ridiculous hypothetical questions. The lad seemed brighter and more active. He squawked when he laughed, he failed his arms almost constantly and he never cussed but replaced the words with his own sort of gibberish language.

Gavin had been asking Ryan if, for a million dollars, he’d accept getting static shock from anything he touched forever (the answer being “No, that's just dumb Gavin.”), when the door was thrown open.

The slam of the door made the two jump and Gavin retreated back into his quiet, frightened shell. He tensed next to Ryan, slowly shifting to have a grip on the edge of Ryan’s t-shirt. Ryan snarled.

Edgar strolled in with two of his henchmen behind him. One of them Ryan had never seen before, while the other he remembered quite clearly. He was the one that had stayed behind with Gavin. Ryan took note to kill him slowly and painfully later. Edgar smirked upon seeing Ryan and Gavin sitting so close together.

“Awww, cozy are we?” Edgar sneered at the two. “Come along Vagabond, your 12 hours are up and we have a phone call to make to good ol’ Ramsey.”

The gang member who’d hurt Gavin (who Ryan had mentally named Asshole) stepped towards them. Ryan instinctively sat forward, shielding Gavin. Edgar raised a brow at this and his grin widened.

“Oh, more than cozy then?” Edgar laughed. “What a plot twist! You, grab the hacker.”

Asshole obeyed the orders and was quick, reaching past Ryan and grabbing Gavin by a fistful of hair. He yanked him forward and dragged him back to Edgar’s side. Gavin would have screamed if he wasn't scared shitless.

“Edgar, you asshole,” Ryan snarled, on the defense and looking ready to pound on the guy who had a hold of Gavin.

“Seems the Vagabond here has a soft spot for our cute hacker,” Edgar’s laugh was really getting on Ryan’s last nerve. “Shall we take him with us?”

With that, Gavin was thrown forward and Edgar replaced Asshole’s grip with his own in his hair. Gavin spluttered some sort of cry but quickly stifled it incase his punishment worsened.

Ryan followed in suit as Edgar dragged the brit down the hall, eventually throwing him forward to walk on his own when too many glass shards nicked him. Ryan limped behind Edgar, the two guards following behind him. It was getting more and more difficult to walk on his foot, pain pounding. Not even halfway to their ‘torture room,’ Ryan felt nauseous and had to stop. He was sweating and shaky. The guards ordered him to move on but he honestly couldn't go another step, despite his struggles to keep his cool, stoic demeanor.

“What’s the hold up, Vagabond?” Edgar questioned. Ryan looked up from his hunched position against the wall. Edgar looked at him questioningly. Ryan didn't have the energy to respond.

“Oh, your foot hurts huh?” Edgar mocked. He lifted Ryan’s head by the chin and flashed him a toothy grin. Ryan glared back. If he had the energy, he would have definitely head butted the moron in the nose. If he had the energy. 

“Come along, Vagabond,” Edgar bellowed a laugh, waving the guards on.

They pushed Ryan forward and he stumbled almost tripping over the trash on the hallway floor. Gavin looked back over his shoulder. Ryan shook his head to him as if to signal ‘don't come back here, I’m fine.’ He didn't want the lad in more pain than he already was. Ryan was stronger, bigger; he could take a beating or in this case a chisel to the foot. On the bright side his ribs had stopped aching.

They reached the ‘torture room’ and Ryan was pulled in after Edgar, collapsing on the grimy floor. Gavin rushed to his aid, helping him collect himself. The brit was tall, not as tall as Ryan but tall enough to be used as someone to lean on. The gang members that had followed Edgar stood at the door while two more, including Tubby, were stationed inside the room. The small table had been moved into the light and the chair was no where to be seen, but another table having taken it’s place. Edgar strolled over to the small table and flicked up the top off a laptop, setting up some sort of video chat. Ryan already didn't like this.

Suddenly, Geoff’s face appeared on the screen. After a moment the sound came through.

“Ryan?” Geoff asked squinting into the camera. “Edgar! What the fuck did you do to him? WE HAD A DEAL!”

Edgar chuckled. “I said you’d get him back in ‘better OR worse’ condition. I never said you were getting him back unharmed.”

Geoff grit his teeth. Jack was sitting in the background, looking rather pale and worried.

“Now your first 12 hours are up,” Edgar started. He clicked his fingers and his henchmen sprang into action. The two who had been guarding the door pulled Ryan off Gavin, the other two restraining Gavin. Ryan was handcuffed, arms behind his back, and dragged towards the table. His felt his heart pound when he saw Edgar’s grin. How evil it was and god, Ryan hoped what he thought was about to happen, didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the attempted rape chapter - Just forewarning for triggers. 
> 
> Come join me on Tumblr!  
> http://troublehunting.tumblr.com/


	5. UPDATE

AYYYYYYYOOOOOO

Its been well over a year since I updated this fic. Unfortunately life got the better of me and I got the dreaded writers block. I'm tempted to pick this fic back up but I'd like to re-write it. There's a few changes Id like to make, especially regarding the 'rape/non-con' tag which Ill be taking out completely. It's not something I think I can write in but you can be sure there'll still be some angst, along with lots of fluff moments.

I'm not sure if Ill post the updated fic here, or if Ill create a new page since it'll be different from the one already posted here. Once I've decided, Ill post another update with the link or just whats happening in general.

I'm terribly sorry for dropping this fic. I hope you'll enjoy the re-written version as much as I KNOW Ill enjoy writing it!

-Bec 'Troublehunting' McGee  
Author, Debt Millionaire, all round smol child

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading !!
> 
> Leave a comment and maybe some kudos if you're a good egg ;)


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